


Soft Selfish Prayers, And I Can't Get Enough.

by Geek_in_progress



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Cis John, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, FTM Sherlock Holmes, M/M, Menstruation, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Penis In Vagina Sex, Period Sex, Periods, Pre Bottom Surgery, Pre-T, Top John Watson, Trans Sherlock, Translock, or No Bottom Surgery, or no T, vagina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geek_in_progress/pseuds/Geek_in_progress
Summary: Trans Sherlock ("FtM", pre-T or no T, pre or no bottom surgery) is on his period. He and John have sex. Britpicked by KittieHill.





	Soft Selfish Prayers, And I Can't Get Enough.

Sherlock feels the hormones rushing through his bloodstream, so different than his drugs. John is a solid weight above him, holding him down with hands and arms and body. He can feel each whorl of John's fingerprints as he grips Sherlock's arms so tight, bruising, grounding. John's breath on his neck and his head falls back. Body tingling, shivers, every pore sings, horripilation. John thrusts hard and fast, a jolting rhythm. 

It's so much, rushing through, almost too much, everything on fire, every nerve shooting off signals, mind awash in the undertow, surge of sensations. Much more pleasure than he can usually take before going to orgasm, his pleasure threshold much higher while on his period. He's writhing, moaning, gasping beneath John. 

Pleasure peaks, flooding him, and then he's coming, chocking on the exquisite ecstasy, jerking in John's arms, chest heaving to get precious air. Sherlock's orgasm lasts much longer than usual. Body still twitching, pleasure waves through him, over and over. Sherlock is half out of it, breathing hard likes he's running for his life, shuddering. 

He's still thrumming in a full body orgasm, but John keeps thrusting, sweating and groaning into Sherlock's hair. John knows by now that if he keeps at it, Sherlock will come again, but he'll need something changed or amped up. So he pushes himself up a bit, puts one of Sherlock's bent legs over his good shoulder, grabs Sherlock's hair, and pulls. Sherlock chokes on a moan and throws his head back into John's hand. John pulls harder, shifts his weight forward and fucks deeper. Sherlock is making noise non-stop now, in between gasps for air. Nonsense sounds, the sound of emotion, of being buried in sensation. It's building again, everything, every touch, every one of John's hot breaths against his neck and face. Then John reaches his other hand down and strokes Sherlock's slick clitoris. 

Sherlock throws his shoulders back, arching, folds inward, bucking and his leg almost slips. A breath, a sob barely there into John's. Then Sherlock falls back, limp, into the rucked up sheets. Eyes rolled back, mind silent, all sensation, as the pleasure pummels him, from inside, out, all around.

John leans down again, still pulling on his hair, breathing hot as he licks, bites, sucks on Sherlock's exposed neck. It's too much, it almost hurts, but Sherlock can't stop, has to come again. Weak against the tide, he shudders in John's arms and gets his arms up to grip John's back, nails scraping and he arches helplessly. He's almost sobbing now, shaking apart, lashes fluttering on sweaty cheeks. And then it crashes into him at last and he's crying out, loud, pained, so intense, so good so good. Sounds disappear, and everything but this is so far away, vision going grey. 

He's still shaking, muscles jerking, for minutes after his mind comes back. John cradles him the whole time, kissing his face and neck, stroking his hair, wonderful, fantastic, soft words and sounds. They lay together for awhile, waiting for the aftershock. Then the final orgasm hits, and John is holding him, steadying him. Sherlock gasps softly into John's chest, shuddering gently, the only movement his exhausted body can make, wetness at the corners of his eyes. 

Sherlock catches his breath. John lets him down onto the bed and lays down next to him. Sherlock manages to curl into John, weary and sated. John smooths the sweaty hair out of Sherlock's eyes, kisses his forehead. 

Finally, Sherlock is able to sleep.


End file.
